Beyond This Point, There Be Monsters
by michelle-31a
Summary: Andrew Brody has heard rumours of a mysterious lake in the mountainous regions of Scotland. Determined to investigate legends of Nessielike creatures in its depths, he enounters something altogether unexpected.


Beyond This Point, There Be Nothing

It had started out, at least, as a lovely fall day. The birds were chirping, perched contentedly up in their lofts. A fresh breeze was blowing in from the north, playfully rustling the branches of the trees. And the deluge of the past two days had finally blown over -- only a few light clouds littered the grey-blue skies. All in all, it was a perfect day to spend outdoors. That is, assuming there weren't too many problems to contend with.

Which, all things considered, was turning out to be an increasingly forlorn hope.

Andrew swore under his breath -- his back was acting up again. And he still had half the gear to unload from the back of the van.

"Are they ever going to get here?" he lamented loudly as he heaved one of the sonar heads to the ground. "Cripes, I swear those two could get lost in a phone booth!"

"I just reached them," said Milly from the cab, her voice barely audible through the half open door. "They've got their bearings now, shouldn't be much longer."

"Yeah, well, I'm not about to bet the farm on that," grumbled Andrew as he straightened up painfully. He kicked himself for forgetting to pack his muscle rub -- it was going to be a very long week.

"Oh, come on, Roony," teased Milly from the cab. "Anybody can get lost, you of all people should know that -- or did you forget the museum already?"

"Hey, that was a big museum!" protested Andrew, rather embarrassing memories flooding back into consciousness. "And it wasn't like I was lost -- "

" 'Paging Andrew Brody'," mocked Milly in her best British accent. " 'Andrew Brody, please report to the visitors' reception -- ' "

"Okay, all right," said Andrew, throwing his hands up in surrender -- the last thing he wanted was to invoke further mockery. They had to get back to the business at hand, namely preparing their gear; if everything went well, they might even be in a position to run a few generalized scans of the lakebed before nightfall.

Assuming, that is, they didn't get kicked out by the authorities first. Though they had procured the necessary diving and research permits, the fact that the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs continued to firmly deny the existence of the mystery lake (and this despite satellite photographs) struck him as odd. Just what were they trying to hide, if anything? Milly's theory of another type of Nessie were problematic -- if there was such a creature in this unnamed lake, why wouldn't they take advantage of it, if not for the potential tourism revenue at the very least?

But whatever the government's motivation, if there was something unusual lurking about in the depths of that lake, Andrew was determined to find it. Find it, and document it -- they had brought along a small fortune's worth of sonar and diving equipment, along with several powerful marine cameras. All they needed now was the rest of the crew; that is, if they could ever get past Jimmy's atrocious navigating.

"Hang on, I'll give you a hand," said Milly, slamming shut the glove box and sliding out of the cab. "You know, I was just thinking that if the lake's shallow enough we could -- well, hello there!"

"Hello."

Andrew spun around. There, at the side of the road just a few yards from the forest's edge stood a young girl clad in what appeared to be old-fashioned formal school robes. If it hadn't been for her attire he might've thought she'd just emerged from being lost in the woods, such was her almost wild appearance, with her huge, misty eyes and long, dishevelled hair.

Milly smiled and crouched down before the girl -- unlike Andrew, she'd always been perfectly comfortable with children. "Where'd you come from, sweetie? Do you live near here...you're not lost I hope?"

The girl shook her head, her silver eyes lingering briefly on Andrew before fixing her gaze on Milly. Andrew thought the girl seemed a bit floaty, as though she'd just woken up from a dream.

"No, I live in Devonshire, I just go to school here," she replied in an airy, almost gossamer voice. She then turned to Andrew and fixed her unblinking stare on him.

"You're Yanks, aren't you?" she asked.

"Um, that's right," replied Andrew, surprised to hear such an isolated area could support a school. "Just got in a couple of days ago, actually. Still trying to get used to this driving on the left business you have here."

The girl seemed to muse over something, as though trying to recall something distantly locked away in memory --

Her eyes lit up. She looked up to Andrew and waved her hand.

"Howdy," she said.

"Um, howdy," replied Andrew as Milly giggled. "But I'm from Vermont, actually."

The girl's eyes widened precipitously as if he'd just told her some astounding news.

"Truly?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," he replied, bemused. "I haven't even been south of the Mason-Dixon line in years." There was something distinctly odd about this girl, thought Andrew, what with her necklace of dangling corks and conductor's baton tucked behind her ear.

"Oh, I couldn't tell," she voiced solemnly, moving closer and gazing intently at both sides of his face -- for what, he couldn't fathom. "Still, your ears don't look all that much bigger than normal, so I'd say you've gotten off rather well, yes?"

Milly burst out laughing. Andrew cast her a sharp look.

"Er, right, well, um -- "

"What's all this?" the girl proceeded to ask, quickly losing interest in Andrew's ears as she moved to the unpacked equipment scattered about the back of the van. "You really are quite messy, you know...oh, look at these shoes...they're flippers, aren't they? This looks a bit like Professor Moody's sort of thing...is that an underwater camera? Colin Creevy would love to see this..."

She paused for a fraction of a second before spinning around, her dreaminess momentarily displaced by a look of excitement. "Are you here to film the tournament? I missed most of the first task, it's a shame you weren't here then..."

Andrew glanced at Milly, but she looked equally nonplussed. He wasn't aware of even a town nearby, much less any upcoming tournaments. "Uh, well, we're going to be spending a few days at the lake..."

"Exactly," said the girl assuredly. "The second task is tomorrow...are you staying at Hogsmeade?"

Andrew felt suddenly apprehensive. "Hold on," he said. "The tournament is at the lake?"

The girl cocked her head. "Yes, didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't", replied Andrew.

"Well, it's no wonder, I suppose," said the girl consolingly. "They're being rather secretive with the details, after all. It's a good thing you thought to bring along an underwater camera then, isn't it?"

Milly groaned. "Oh, of all the luck..."

Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. He could almost feel their expedition teetering on the brink of disaster.

"So what are they going to be doing at this tournament?" he asked dispiritedly. "Speedboats, or...?"

"I thought we'd covered that," said the girl, absentmindedly twirling a dandelion stem in her fingers. "No one knows, outside of the organizers...and I shouldn't think it'd be speedboats, that's a very Muggle sort of thing. Anyway, they likely wouldn't work that close to the castle. Haven't they told you anything?"

Andrew and Milly looked at each other. "Castle?"

The girl froze. For several moments she stared at the two of them intently, all trace of dreaminess now evaporated. She fixed her large misty eyes upon them as an antiquer might scrutinize an ancient Ming vase for any discrepancy.

"So, er, how long is this tournament supposed to -- "

Without warning, the girl scurried to the van and hopped in through the open side door.

"Hey!"

"What's she doing?"

Andrew shot off after her, aching back and all, but within seconds the girl was already scampereding out. "It's the same size," she voiced to herself in a whisper. "It's no bigger inside than outside..."

"Yeah, go figure," said Andrew, scratching his head. Though the girl had mentioned a school nearby, he began to wonder if might really be an asylum. "Now look, if you don't mind -- "

Milly's cell phone rang -- the girl's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"Muggles..."

"Well that's a new one," said Andrew, closing the van's side door firmly. Milly was walking slowly to the front of the van, her phone pressed to her ear. "Yeah, I'll call you back...no, no, just a little hiccup...look, I'll explain later."

The girl slowly backed away from them, edging closer to the bushes. There wasn't a look of fear in her eyes, exactly -- more like a dawning realization she'd committed some soft of horrible _faux pas_.

Milly snapped her phone shut, concern evident on her face. She approached the girl and crouched down on her haunches. "Hey, sweetie, are you okay?" she asked softly. "You're white as a ghost!"

"She was like that before, Milly," said Andrew, pulling out his map from his back pocket. ""here's this castle she talked about? The only thing I saw near here were some old ruins..."

"Raven...claw?" pronounced Milly, squinting as she read the crest on the girl's uniform. "Is that your school?"

The girl drew a sharp breath and backed away again, shaking her head vigorously. Andrew gaped at her, his map half-opened.

Milly slowly stood up and eased over to him. "Think maybe she's running away from school?" she whispered.

"I don't know, but I'm thinkikng we should talk to somebody there," he suggested. "This tournament's probably some sort of school activity. If it's just a one day thing we might still have time to get some decent -- hey! Where you goin'?"

He and Milly had both been caught flat-footed -- the girl had bolted off into the woods. Andrew took a step and stopped; there was no point in persuing. For whatever reason, the strange girl was clearly not keen for them to follow. Andrew squinted as he scratched his head, at a loss as to what could've caused such an abrupt change in her behaviour.

"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do," he remarked. "I guess we'll have to get our answers from the tournament officials...there must be people at the lake getting ready for tomorrow."

They proceeded to unload the rest of their gear. They were just finishing their sandwiches when, much to their surprise, the girl returned. This time she was accompanied by a rather old fellow: his long, flowing white beard and wizened features reminded Andrew of childhood stories of Merlin the Magician...so much so that he wondered briefly if there might be some sort of Renaissance Faire in the area.

Milly slipped off the back of the van. Andrew followed more slowly, his back still throbbing. At least now they might get some answers!

The old man smiled genially and moved forward to greet them. The plain, brown cloak he wore didn't entirely conceal a set of colourful silk robes underneath.

"Well, hi again!" said Milly, addressing the young girl with a smile. This time, however, the strange waif remained resolutely silent, though she had regained her original air of curiosity, staring at both of them in turn with her unblinking silvery gaze.

"Greetings," intoned the old man. Though he looked elderly, there was a distinct energy about him -- he didn't seem to Andrew to be of the sort to be confined to a retirement community. "Miss Lovegood has informed me you intend to produce a film of the environs...may I ask what you intend to document?"

Andrew glanced uncertainly at Milly; he had no idea who the man was, or who he represented. Still, he had no reason to lie.

"Well, we were going to look into this lake your government insists isn't there," he replied slowly.

"Ah, yes," intoned the old man in apparent understanding. "A topographical error of epic proportions -- "

"Now don't _you_ start," snapped Andrew, memories of arguments with adamant bureaucrats still fresh in his mind. "There are satellite shots that definitively show a lake just on the other side of these woods, it's not some sort of optical illusion. And your little friend there -- ", he pointed to the girl, "already told us about a tournament they're holding on that very same lake tomorrow."

"Indeed?" said the man, glancing down at the girl who was still staring at them, seemingly oblivious to the discussion at hand.

Milly stepped forward. "Look, we won't interfere in your tournament," she interjected. "We'll wait 'till day after tomorrow, assuming our boat even gets here -- and frankly I'm not even sure how we're going to haul all this stuff a mile and a half through those woods..."

The man seemed to weigh his next words carefully as he slowly stroked his beard. "May I ask what interests you about the lake?"

Andrew hesitated. They had agreed not to discuss the subject in detail with anyone, pending their findings.

But keeping secrets was not Milly's strong suit. "Well, it's landlocked, for one," she explained without so much as a preamble. "Nothing flows out, nothing flows in except mountain runoff, which by itself is unusual enough. The theory is that it might be a leftover from ancient glacier meltdowns during the late -- "

The girl piped up -- she had been following the conversation, after all --

"Oh, but that's not how -- "

"One must allow them their theories, Miss Lovegood," said the old man genially but firmly.

" -- er, anyway, we think there might be some pretty interesting stuff down there, what with its isolation from the sea, or any other bodies of water for that matter. There might even be forms of life that are unique in the zoological record -- "

At that the girl went to say something but caught herself, covering her mouth with her both hands as though wary of inadvertently spilling some unfathomable secret.

" -- that would make the world of cryptozoology stand on it's ear...or at least, that's our hope."

The old man was stroking his bearded chin pensively. "I imagine you would not be dissuaded," he began slowly, "from undertaking this research?"

"What? But why would -- "

Andrew had had enough. "Okay, what gives?" he snapped, drawing the old fellow's strangely calm gaze. "Why is it everybody seems bent on keeping this lake of yours a secret? What, is there the British Area 51 hidden under there or something?"

The girl leaned close to the old man. "They're Vermonters," she whispered perfectly audibly. "Though you wouldn't know it to look at them..."

"Verily, not that I am aware," replied the old man, addressing Andrew. "Nonetheless, I'm afraid I must ask you to -- "

"Oh no," interjected Andrew, his irritation growing by the moment. Was the entire isle of Great Britain conspiring against him? "We spent a small fortune setting this up, so unless you've got some legal injunction -- "

"But we'll wait till after your tournament's over," repeated Milly hastily, casting an annoyed glance at Andrew.

"Alas, I'm afraid I have no legal recourse jurisdiction to invoke," said the old man, calmly reaching into his cloak. Andrew instinctively took a half step back. Was the old codger going to pull a gun on them?

"Hey, now wait a minute -- "

But the man had merely pulled out a conductor's baton, similar to the one tucked behind the young girl's ear. Andrew didn't know wether to laugh or frown -- did the old coot seriously intend to scare him off with a stick?

"It's quite harmless," explained the old man. "Only your short term memory will be expunged...no harm shall be done."

Andrew and Milly looked at each other, both equally befuddled.

"Great...so much for answers, the guy's nuts!" exclaimed Andrew, waving his arms in frustration. "They must've had a mass breakout from the local asylum or something -- "

"Andy!"

The man levelled his baton.

"Yeah, go ahead," mocked Andrew. "Do your -- "

"_Obliviate_."

Andrew felt like an idiot. He could plainly see the countryside rolling past as they drove along, yet none of the road signs and place names were even remotely familiar to him. Try as he might, he could not at all remember where they were supposed to be going. Never before had he experienced such an infuriatingly stubborn gap in his memory.

At least he wasn't panicking. Milly, in the passenger seat next to him, had made no comment about missing a turn or otherwise being on the wrong route. So long as she said nothing, he could reasonably conclude they were headed in the right direction. Even so, the fact that his mind drew a complete blank as to their destination was disconcerting.

He couldn't come right out and ask her, that he knew -- she'd never let him live it down.

For the umpteenth time that afternoon he wracked his brain trying to remember just what it was they were doing in Scotland. He only vaguely remembered the flight, and the stay at the hotel, but beyond that...

Was he going senile?

He glanced over his companion. She was sitting unusually stiffly, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. What was she so tense about?

They both jumped at the melodic chiming. Milly flipped open her cell phone hastily, nearly dropping it in the process.

"H-hello?" said Milly, her voice sounding strangely frazzled. "Who's this? Allan? What do you mean, where are we? We're...um...hang on a second..."

_Just say it_, thought Andrew. _Just tell him where we are so I can know..._

She looked to him earnestly. "Can you pull over for a second?" she pleaded. "You'd better take this call...I...I haven't been paying attention to the road..."

Andrew did a double take. "Me? I'm driving here," he argued. "Just tell him we're on the way...we'll be there in...in a bit..."

Milly swallowed hard. "Andy, I have a confession to make," she said sombrely. "I'm totally lost...worse than that, I've totally drawn a blank -- I can't even remember where we're going!"

Andrew gaped at her. "What, you too?"

"I -- what do you mean, me too? Don't tell me -- "

"I thought I was going senile," explained Andrew, deftly swerving around a slow-moving hedgehog crossing the road. "But if you're experiencing the same thing...what's the last thing you remember?"

Milly screwed up her face in thought. Warren could tell she was experiencing just as much difficulty in recollection as he was.

"Going to bed, last night at the hotel," she finally answered, clearly disconcerted. "But it's all a haze, to tell you the truth. I can't even remember what we're here for."

"Heh...same here."

"No way."

"I'm not kidding," said Andrew. "I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I thought it was just me, but..."

"Were we...do you think..."

"What?"

"Abducted by aliens?"

Andrew guffawed. "Oh, for...get real," he said, shaking his head. "Aliens...it's bad enough people think we're quacks already..."

"Andy, abductees often experience gaps in the passage of time," explained Milly. "Oftentimes it's -- "

"You gonna answer Allan or what?"

" -- just...what? Oh!"

Milly flipped her phone back up to her ear.

"Allan, I'm so sorry, I...hello? Crap, I lost him."

She brought the phone down and stared at the screen.

"There's no service here all of a sudden," she said. "Nothing at all..."

"Well that does it," said Warren. "We'd better pull over and find a phone somewhere. Probably gonna be the only way we'll find out what we're doing here."

"Actually, I believe you mentioned your destination as being Loch Ness -- "

Milly drew in a sharp breath just as Andrew snapped his head around at the sound of the voice, sending the van into a jittery swerve. Seated directly behind him was an old bearded man, smiling benignly.

"What the He -- " his eyes fell on a young girl seated next to his unknown passenger, " -- what the heck? Who in blazes are _you?_"

"Andrew, the road!" shrieked Milly.

Andrew spun back around and witnessed a stomach-churning sight -- they were headed straight for an embankment. He gave a sharp turn of the wheel and the van, its tyres squealing loudly in protest, re-established its proper course after a few hairy moments.

"Keep your eye on the road!" admonished Milly, before turning to their unexpected passengers.

"All right, pardon me for being rude, but just who are you?" she asked in an unusually forceful voice, the tone of which Andrew recognized from those rare occasions when she was dead serious. "And how'd you get on here? Did you stowaway at the hotel?"

"Ah, yes, I have been most ungracious. Allow me to introduce myself," said the old man. "I am Horace MacGregor, florist by trade, and this -- " he indicated the young girl seated to his right, who had continued to stare dreamily out the window all through the van's wild manoeuvres, " -- is my great niece, Celene."

At that, the girl suddenly seemed to become aware of the discussion, turning to gaze up curiously at the old man. Looking in his rear-view mirror, Andrew noted that she wore some sort of formal school uniform, though it seemed to be inexplicably turned inside-out.

"Um, well, pleased to meet you," said Milly, her previously firm tone already beginning to melt away. Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes. It didn't surprise him in the least -- Milly was the type of person who could never so much as hang up on a solicitor; it was up to him to get answers.

"All right then, explain how you and your niece managed to get in our van without our knowing?" he shot from the driver's seat, determined to get Milly back on track.

The old man smiled. "Alas, our lorry broke down a few miles back, and as it happened you chanced upon us and were kind enough to offer a lift. Do you not recall the events?"

Milly looked stunned at this news. "I...we did?" She looked to Andrew. "Do you remember any of that?"

He shook his head. "No, but," he cautioned, "I don't remember anything since last night, so..."

"You did appear to be slightly befuddled when you stopped to help," added MacGregor. "I had attributed it to your driving on an unfamiliar side of the road, though you did mention an expedition of some sort to the Loch. If you have lost your map, I can tell you that you are on the right road."

Andrew's eyebrows rose. "Loch Ness?"

Milly looked to him. "But...why would we be going to Loch Ness? I don't remember making any plans for that, do you?"

"Er...well we do have all the gear with us..."

"We do get quite a few cryptozoologists up this way" commented the old man conversationally. "I trust that you intend to investigate the stories?"

"...um...yeah, we, er...Nessie and all that..."

Andrew nodded. It seemed to make sense, given their gear and itinerary, though he too could not recall discussing such a trip. Still, it was the only thing he had to go on at the moment. "Nessie, yeah..."

The girl finally tore her gaze from her great uncle. She pressed her cheek against the side window and turned her strangely misty eyes to the rolling green countryside whizzing by.

"Every time a fib is told, a faerie somewhere turns too old," she said mystically, seemingly addressing no one in particular. The old man merely blinked, though Andrew thought he'd noticed a barely perceptible change in his countenance -- almost as though he'd been briefly caught off-guard, really -- but a moment later he was smiling genially once more.

"Ah, such imagination," declared MacGregor, nodding slowly in reflection. "I seem to recall possessing a rather healthy one at such an age myself."

Andrew glanced up in the mirror. Though she'd said nothing further, he had the distinct impression that the girl was unhappy about something.

"You didn't happen to see any UFO's in the area, did you?" asked Milly, addressing their passengers.

"Oh for -- "

"It's a legitimate question!"

"We haven't been abducted!" shot Andrew. "All right? End of story."

"Ah, there's a garage," said the old man, pointing ahead. "You may drop us off there, they'll no doubt have someone gifted in the mechanical arts."

Andrew spotted the "garage" in question, which looked more like an antique dealer than a gas station. But he was all too eager to rid himself of his odd passengers to voice any doubts -- he quickly pulled into the dirt lot.

Milly, however, was proving irritatingly courteous. "Are you sure you'll be all right here?" she asked as the old man slipped out the side door, his niece following along slowly. "This place seems kinda decrepit -- "

"Which is ideal," said the old man, smiling, "as I have a very old lorry. I thank you for the lift...and wish you the best of luck with your research!"

"Yeah...thanks," muttered Andrew as Milly closed the side door. He was about to shift into gear when his ears picked up the faint conversation between his two former passengers through his open window, as they walked slowly back along the road.

"Maybe Professor Hagrid could have scared them off," the girl was saying -- for whatever reason she was walking on tiptoes, her arms held out as if she were treading along a narrow beam. "All those fibs...so many faeries..."

"Ah, but one must never assume, Miss Lovegood," replied the old man, "for indeed, I had my toes crossed the entire time."

The girl looked up at him.

"Over under?"

"Indeed, with both feet, no less."

"Oh...it's so hard to tell with shoes on..."

The old man nodded sagely and put a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder.

"As we are on the subject of the Fey, allow me to regale you with a story about your mother..."

His words became unintelligible over the drone of the van's sputtering diesel. Andrew watched them for a moment longer, then put the shifter into gear. He started to pull out of the lot when a loud bang sounded out from somewhere behind them. He slammed the brakes and twisted his head out the window.

The old man and the girl were gone. There was no way they could've run into the rickety old shop in the few seconds since he'd turned away from them.

"Did you see that?" asked Milly in a breathless whisper.

Andrew didn't wait for them to reappear. He floored the accelerator, sending small stones flying along the road.

"No, and neither did you."


End file.
